Family Leave
by TriplePirouette
Summary: Set postEuphoria. Foreman asks House for some time off to be with his mother.


Title: Family Leave

By: TriplePirouette

Category: Foreman Angst, House/Foreman friendship

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: They're not mine- I'm a poor and having fun... take pity...

Distribution: my site, anywhere else please ask first :)

Summary: Set post-Euphoria. Foreman asks House for some time off to be with his mother.

Author's notes: I recently saw Euphoria again, and realized that in passing they said that Foreman's Mother is suffering from Alzheimer's. My own Grandmother is suffering from the disease now, and this is my way of dealing with it. (AN- Since I wrote this my Grandmother has passed due to an unrelated illness. Writing this piece was cathartic, but at this point I don't see myself continuing this story line- please do not ask me to. –TP)

Feedback PLEASE at: I love anything constructive! Blatant flames, however, will be disregarded and used to roast s'mores...

House looked up when Foreman entered his office, pulling his iPod from his ears. There was a defeated look about the young doctor, one that House hadn't seen before even when he'd been facing his own death. Foreman was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, attire that was completely unlike the usually meticulous suit he sported. House's comments died on his tongue.

House raised his eyebrows and folded his hands on his desk, waiting.

"No witty one liner?" Foreman asked, fidgeting over by the light board.

"Despite what people think I do have some self-restraint. It's obvious there's something you either need from me or need to say to me." House shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "I could make fun of you if you want, though."

"No, uh, I guess I won't look a gift horse in the mouth." Foreman swept a finger over the metal edge of the light board then slowly made his way to sit across from House. "I need some time off."

"Ok. Define 'some.'" House grabbed his Magic Eight Ball and began to roll it in his hands.

Foreman looked up, confused. "Ok, as in yes?"

"Yeah," House shrugged. "Define 'some,' as in how long…"

"Wait, you're not going to ask why?" He leaned forward.

"It doesn't make a difference to me what you're doing. You have time saved up, I can't stop you from taking it. The answer's still yes. Now, define 'some.'"

Foreman stared at his fingers for a minute, cracked his knuckles then smoothed his hands over his jeans. "I'm…not sure."

House closed his eyes, turned over his Eight Ball, and smiled at it's response. "Yes, almighty Eight Ball, his response was cloudy, we should try again later."

"No, I-" Foreman held his hand up, pulled it back, and worked his mouth for a few seconds before looking down at his hands again, totally defeated.

House's eyes widened, whether from shock, surprise, or disbelief, he wasn't sure. Were someone to question him about it, he'd say that temporary insanity led him to say what he said next. It certainly wouldn't be because he was curious, and definitely not because he liked or admired the man in front of him. "Not that I care or that it matters, but maybe if you told me what's going on, I can help you define 'some.' Magic Eight Ball obviously doesn't have any ideas, anyway."

Foreman looked up, nodded, and licked his lips. "My Mother, she has Alzheimers."

"Ok." House waited, he knew there was more.

Foreman sighed, hanging his head low. "She's in stage seven. Her speech is becoming unintelligible, she can barely walk even with her walker, she doesn't recognize my father for days at a time…" His voice slowly faded, sadness clouding his eyes at all the implications of end stage Alzheimers that were unsaid but they both knew were present in someone so close to the end of their life. "It could be days, it could be months. No one can really say for sure."

"You'd know best of all." House said quietly, his hands laying flat on the table, his heart going out to his young protégé. Any neurologist worth a damn understood the intricacies of Alzheimers, and knew that it was a death sentence that could linger for years if there were no complications.

"Yeah. Ironic that she's dying of an advanced neurological disease and her son, the neurologist, can't do a damn thing about it." The venom in his voice was more than House was prepared for. He looked up that the man, the defeat gone and anger the predominant emotion on his face.

"Sure. You're supposed to cure one of the most baffling medical diseases of all time." House reacted to his anger the one way he knew how. "It's like a movie of the week. At the last minute you'll find some wonderful answer that every scientist in the world has overlooked until now and save the day." House waved his hand at the man in front of him. "Hello! Not your fault!"

Foreman spat out a laugh and leaned back in his chair. "Yeah. Sure. You try rationalizing it."

The men sat in silence for a moment, their eyes avoiding one another. House knew he'd be berating himself if he were in the same position.

"You have your time. Starting immediately. Cuddy has all the paperwork, so you'll have to explain this all to her, too. Make sure you take the extended family leave, not personal leave. That means they can't pester me to hire someone if you're gone more than a few weeks- they'll legally have to hold your job for you." House waved his hand. "I'll tell the kids you're off in Sweden guest judging a topless bikini contest."

Foreman almost smiled at the last comment. "Thanks."

"I'm sorry, Foreman. I really am." House was unnaturally quiet and serious. It was an unguarded moment that they both shared, their eyes locking and an understanding floating between them tinged with admiration and respect. "If you need anything…"

Foreman laughed a bit, the spell broken. "I-"

"…call Cameron. She's much better at the supportive, understanding stuff than I am. Then again if you need a sarcastic comeback or tips on cane races I'm your man." House leaned back, twirling his cane in his fingers, his eyebrows dancing on his forehead.

Foreman did laugh this time. He stood and held out his hand over the cluttered desk. House looked surprised for a second, but stood and shook the neurologist's hand firmly. "Good Luck, Foreman. We'll be here when you're ready to come back."

House let go of the young man's hand, and Foreman felt a little bit of peace settle over him. He was giving up the one constant in his life to be with his mother at the end of hers. To know that this would still be here when he would need it most… that made the rolling in his stomach subside just a little.

Foreman turned, heading to the door. "Goodbye, House."

House nodded his head at the young doctor and watched him leave. He didn't envy him, not at all. He lifted the phone, thought for a second, and then dialed. "Hey Mom… no, I just thought it's been a while since I called."


End file.
